


a moment of forever

by knowtheway



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Stupidly soft, Two satanist idiots who could’ve had it all, bless their dumb little hearts <3, they both want to be wanted so bad it’s pitiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:20:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25435294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knowtheway/pseuds/knowtheway
Summary: This is an extension to a scene from the second companion novel, “Daughter of Chaos”  wherein Zelda spends the night at the academy to care for Judas and an injured Prudence (whilst emerging from Faustus’ bed chamber in the middle of the night wearing one of his robes for... ya know... no particular reason). For those who’ve never read it - 1. I recommend it and 2. it’s set between mid-winter’s tale from part 1 and the beginning of part 2.
Relationships: Faustus Blackwood/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 21
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi yes hello. File this under “fics I started a long time ago and finally got arsed enough to work on.” 
> 
> This is probably the softest I’ve ever written them, so just be prepared for some sickeningly short and sweet fluff. 
> 
> Hope you’re all well and enjoy the porn. Love you loads, thanks for reading, bye. xx

Giving one last look over to a sleeping Prudence and Judas, she smiles warmly and then dips back into his chambers, quietly clicking the door closed behind her.

As suspected, Faustus hasn’t stirred a bit and she has to huff out a small laugh. Men... afforded all the power to conquer the world, but Satan forbid they be bothered to wake in order to tend to a crying babe. Not that she’d trust him to do so - Judas seems as interested in his father as a fly would a spider, and she knows how quickly Faustus’ delicate ego would shatter if he failed to get the desired result quickly.

It’s part of why he needs her, she muses, untying the knot of his robe and sliding it from her shoulders. Admittedly brilliant as he can be, he lacks any concept of subtly. Babies require subtly, gentleness, patience. So does reform within the Church. Brute force was often good for very little and though she had to admit he had more effective tactics in his arsenal, he was far too prone to resorting to overplayed tricks. She knows how much he loves the idea of consuming - of conquering a long sought after conquest, but she was going to teach him how much more satisfying it could be when you bid your time and coaxed it out so that it came to you of its own accord. History taught her that he was certainly capable of doing just that.

Tossing his robe over the edge of a nearby chair, she slips herself back under the covers, taking care not to wake him, and then sighs peacefully as she settles her head on the satin pillow. Though she would never confess as much, it is rather a lovely feeling, this - the warmth of another lying next to her in the night after she’s spent a long day tending to the children, righting all their wrongs in the expert fashion no one else could ever replicate, and governing everything in her orbit to the praise and contentment of everyone around her. It’s been far too long since she’s felt useful and by extension, appreciated. She loves her family - fiercely - but the truth is, they haven’t needed her in quite some time. Not the way that gives her any sense of purpose, anyway. Ambrose is finally free to roam as he pleases, Hilda has seen fit to put as much literal and metaphorical distance between them recently, and Sabrina... she still _needs_ Zelda, but she’s equally made it clear as of late that she doesn’t _want_ her.

It’s not a sin to be wanted. To be valued.To support and be supported. It’s what family is supposed to do. And it’s not her fault that particular kind of bliss is being found in those beyond her own flesh and blood at the moment.

She doesn’t want herself getting carried away, though, not when this could all vanish in an instant and be chalked up to nothing more than simply playing house. Still, when she thinks of her nightson’s happy little giggle at the sight of her, the gratitude in Prudence’s eyes when she brought her supper, the way Faustus held her in their post-coital afterglow for far longer than necessary... there’s a warmth that spreads in her chest which she has little strength to deny.

Sighing softly, she lets herself sink further into bed, welcoming the thought of rest. She’s just about to close her eyes when she feels his weight shift and his arm slide firmly around her waist.

“Did you have a bad dream, darling?” he whispers playfully, his lips finding her neck.

She huffs in response, though it doesn’t deter her from exposing her throat to allow him better access and placing her hand over his. “I suppose you were too sedated to hear your son wailing into the night.”

“Oh?” he feigns innocence, kissing along her jaw and caressing the soft flesh of her stomach. “Perhaps I just wanted him to have the pleasure of seeing his gorgeous night mother. She is... “ he nips at her ear and she gasps, “ ... _ever_ so bewitching. Far be it from me to deny him the comfort of such an exquisite darkangel of a woman.”

She rolls her eyes and gives a muffled noise of distaste, hearing him emit a low chuckle from his throat as he pulls her in tighter against him. “Do I not speak the truth?” he murmurs into her hair.

She answers with a hushed scoff, turning onto her back so that she can cast him an annoyed look of dismissal. She absolutely hates the triumphant smirk on his face that awaits her (hates it even more that she finds it so arousing), but she’ll be damned if she’ll let him win that easily. “To my knowledge, darkangels never settled for a paltry set of words in gratitude for their service.”

He bites his bottom lip, raising his brow suggestively as he strokes her hair from her face, “Oh, I can offer so much more than words.”

“Is that so?” she says, a challenging glint in her eye.

Her body is warring with itself over the need for sleep and the desire building within her. As he lays his hand delicately on her chest and leans in - she knows he’s indebted enough that she could ask for his worship to her come in the form of shutting up and letting her rest, but when he captures her lips with his and lets his palm glide reverently over her breast, she knows exactly which side of the war her body is going to take.

“Let me touch you, darling,” he kisses her just behind her ear, stroking his fingers up and down her stomach gently, “Let me make you feel nice.”

Well, it would be very rude not to comply with such a request.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, gang! So it’s been a minute and I’m sorry for that. For anyone who was waiting for the second chapter, it is below and I am... truthfully, not happy with it in the slightest, but I don’t want to put off posting it any longer. So thanks for sticking with me and thanks for reading! :)

There are many versions of Zelda he adores, but if he had to pick a favorite, this might be the one - her eyes just having gone dark, lying soft and pliable beneath him, breathless in anticipation, and entirely at his mercy. It’s the only time he’s sure her attention is solely his, the only time he’s certain there’s no chance of her slipping away from him for things and people that should never have been her responsibility in the first place. Her eyes always lock on him, her body arches into his touch, and she grips fiercely at whatever part of him her short nails can dig into... as if nothing else matters in that moment more than him. To awaken with her in his bed, regardless of the hour, is far too sweet a treat to waste.

As he glides his tongue along her collarbone, he thinks he could probably savor her forever like this. Suspended in that exquisite place of need, hungry for his touch. It’s positively breathtaking.

“Your Excellency... “ she says in a low whisper, trying to urge him past his fascination with keeping her taught yet unsatisfied. Zelda loves preaching to him of patience and calculation, but in the bedroom she is the epitome of greed and eagerness. So while he’d love to indulge her, he takes equal delight in making her wait.

“Shh,” he muffles into her skin, sliding an arm under her back, curling her in tight against him, and kissing her deeply. “Mmm, my darling,” he murmurs, ghosting his lips over hers and smiling devilishly when she whines at the loss of contact. He trails his hand further down her stomach, teasingly stroking his fingers back up just before reaching the place she clearly wants his hand to be. She must be soaking, if the squirming and canting of her hips is any indication, but he’s not yet done winding her up. It’s always such a beautiful game - watching a composed, elegant seductress dissolve into raw, desperate, agonizing need. He is scarce to find anything else that makes him feel as powerful.

She’s near panting now, each exhale a half-frustrated whimper at him denying her what she wants.

“Now, don’t go misbehaving, sweetheart,” he says in a low voice, trailing his mouth down to her breast and lightly nipping at the tender flesh there. “I so want to reward you for being good, but I certainly can’t indulge an impatient little brat, now can I?”

She mewls in response, reaching a hand up to grip at his shoulder as he dances his fingertips over the tops of her thighs. “Please,” she begs, straining her hips up towards his teasing touch, chest heaving.

“Oh, so polite,” he murmurs with a smirk, relishing how her frustrated sigh turns into a high-pitched moan as he darts his tongue out to lick and suck at her nipples. Turning his face back up towards hers, he grins at the flush of her skin and the wild, desperate look in her eyes. She’s trying so hard, but he can tell underneath thatpleading gaze she’s ready to eviscerate him if he fails to give her what she wants. And she’s rather good at getting what she wants.

Sliding his hand up her inner thigh, he whispers over her lips, “I think I’d like to hear you say please once more.”

Softly huffing in frustration and pretending she didn’t hear him, she hooks her hand around the back of his neck, purposefully adjusting herself to rub her hip against his hardened cock. It makes the feigned, pleading innocence in her eyes all the more delectable and he nearly growls. “Filthy little tart,” he grunts, pinching the plump flesh of her hip and she lets out a small squeal, “Ask nicely.”

“Please,” she says, pulling his face down closer to hers, “Please, your Excellency.”

He lets out a satisfied sigh. “Good girl,” he whispers back, capturing her lips and swallowing her loud gasp as he slides his hand over her slick cunt. Immediately, she raises her hips to meet him. Fuck, she feels so good - wet and soft and practically buzzing with need.

It’s made all the more delicious when he pushes two fingers inside her and her head falls back, exposing the pale column of her throat to him. He’s never been able to resist sinking his teeth just below her pulse point and reveling in delight ay feeling it quicken. Angling his fingers just so, he begins roughly pumping them in and out of her clenching cunt - kissing, licking, and biting across her neck, her chest, and her tits.

She writhes wildly beneath him, each breath a strangled muttering of curses, and he laughs softly into her skin.

“My, my... such filthy words from such a proper little princess,” and he curls his fingers to drag along her most sensitive spot. She cries out, angling her hips towards his fingers as he pulses them in a rhythm he knows from centuries of practice makes her squirm.

“Yes,” she gasps, “I don’t know where I could possibly - ahhhh - have learned such things.” Digging her nails harder into his shoulder, every part of her begins to tense and it’s so exquisite watching her come undone for him.

He smirks just before bending to kiss her, his tongue and teeth crashing over hers, and the heel of his hand pressing firmly over her clit as she bucks against him. He can sense she’s close and so speeds up his movements, relishing how sweetly she moans and how she arches her back up from the bed like some marbled goddess. His very own divine creature to please.

“Faustus,” she pleads, her hand hooking around his neck and sliding into his hair.

And oh yes, there she is. His perfect, gorgeous, _most favorite_ girl - clinging to him and begging for his touch, begging for him to take her over the edge and under the tide as if he were Poseidon himself. Though he cares not to dwell on the fact that it is, in fact, _he_ who is helpless to the tide of his goddess, but every god had his weakness. He finds it relatable in this moment that, with all the power they possessed and could wield, their weaknesses - and not their power - were sometimes all they craved.

Answering her cries, he leans his head down to her chest, saying in a breathless whisper, “Let me hear more of you, my filthy little tart,” and then fastens his mouth over her pert nipple. With a few flicks of his tongue and some added pressure to her clit, her hips buck into his hand once more and then she’s coming, squeezing tight around his fingers and crying out so loud that the entire academy and all the demons of Hell must be hearing her.

He brings her down from it gradually, slowing his rhythm and placing soft kisses over her chest and neck. She’s flushed and panting, a shaky hand coming up to rest on her forehead as she attempts to control her breathing.

“You’re perfect, my darling,” he says, pulling his fingers from her cunt and letting them glide up her thighs and belly. “Such a good, _sweet_ girl,” he murmurs and then sucks the digits into his mouth with a grunt of pleasure.

She stares at him in blissful admiration and he sighs as he leans in to kiss her. Zelda always loves tasting herself on his lips and he’s in far too generous a state to deny her.

When they finally break apart, she’s already moving to climb atop him, straddling his hips within seconds and humming in satisfaction when he rises to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her tight against him.

“I was rather certain you’d demand your rest, my dear,” he chuckles into her neck, “Satan knows you’ve exhausted yourself beyond measure.”

She lets out a haughty little laugh, effectively wiping the smug grin from his face as she reaches between them and guides his cock between her slick folds. “Mmm, perhaps you’re right, your Excellency,” she taunts as she slides the head of his cock over her entrance.

Fucking hell, she’s so wet and warm and ready for him. It’s absolute torture that he isn’t inside her already.

“Far be it from me to deny you of a good night’s sleep when you’ve such important things to attend to in the morning... “

As if to emphasize her point, she starts to rise off of him, but his hands instinctively grip hard into her hips. “I’ve something important to attend to here now,” he practically growls and she raises her brow with a smirk.

“Oh? ... Would you care for my assistance?” she quips, but then yelps as he delivers one quick blow to her backside in response.

“Don’t tease, dear, it isn’t nice,” he bites his bottom lip and raises his brow with authority as she laughs.

“Well, I never claimed to be nice,” she says, staring challengingly into his eyes and he swears he could devour her right then and there, “But I’d hate to be a tease,” and she sinks down onto his cock, taking the full length of him in at once as they both let out a grateful sigh.

*****

He holds her in his arms long after they’re spent, tracing patterns up her spine and lingering over every kiss her lays on her skin. She lays languidly propped up against his chest, her arms wrapped loosely over his shoulders, occasionally letting out a soft, acknowledging hum of bliss.

“Stay with me,” he says suddenly into her hair and she chuckles softly, unmoving.

“Do you believe at this hour of the night, I’ll rush away as soon as I’m able?”

He laughs back. “It wouldn’t be unheard of, would it?”

“I suppose not,” she concedes with a smile.

Briefly squeezing her waist, he pulls back so that he can look in her eyes, which are looking back at him in amused curiosity.

“I mean, stay here, at the academy... with me. Tonight... tomorrow... the day after that... “

Her mouth opens hesitantly as her brows knit together and he’s acutely reminded that history has proven the surest way to make Zelda flee is by asking her to stay.

“Why, Faustus?” she asks with seemingly genuine confusion.

“I... “ he huffs a small laugh, “It’s been far too nice having such a capable pair of hands at my side. I’m loathe to part with them,” he emphasizes the sentiment by bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her palm.

She looks unconvinced. “You’ve many a pair of hands at your disposal, your Excellency, and-“

“No,” he says more harshly than intended, tugging her tighter to him. A few deep breaths later, he rests his forehead against hers, daring to expose himself and pleads softly, “No, I want no one else... I need no one else.”

“Faustus,” she whispers sadly, “It’s the New Year... my niece’s first witch epiphany, I can’t... “

Of course. The perpetual familial obligations that take priority over all else. Even her own pleasure. Couldn’t she see how easier, how much more pleasant, and simple things were here with him?

“It’s not the New Year for another two days. Surely, your family can survive the preparations for that long without you.And Prudence and Judas... will be so pleased to have you near. Please, Zelda.”

She purses her lips and then scoffs lightly, “How dare you use the children to sway me. That’s incredibly unfair.”

He smiles triumphantly. “... Will I take that as a ‘yes’, then?”

*****

The next two days are nothing short of perfect. She anticipates every need, each problem with a solution, every small fire that would have eaten up his time for more important things extinguished. Having her by his side feels, for lack of better phrasing, right - and it’s becoming harder to ignore how much he brightens any time she enters a room.

He watches with admiration at how efficiently she organizes the coming term’s class schedules, is amazed when two old warlocks he had never quite been able to wrangle are cut to size in stunned silence with little more than a snap of her fingers, smiles fondly each time he hears his son giggle in delight at the sight of her, and praises the Dark Lord below each time he has the pleasure of witnessing her face as she comes.

It’s nothing he could put into words succinctly, but it is rather a lovely feeling, this - waking with another beside you (who you don’t resent or mistrust), knowing they are working in perfect rhythm with you instead of against you, how the feel of their skin against yours brings as much as excitement as it does comfort, the feeling of being connected to another... having a partner. He can’t recall having ever felt so at ease, so happy.

This was how it was always meant to be. He believes that as much as he believes in the Dark Lord himself and he doesn’t think he’s imagining it when he suspects that Zelda might feel the same.

Attending to the tedium of the academy, along with Church of Night devotion and a newborn was far from a holiday, but he swears he hasn’t seen her this pleased and relaxed in... well, about 16 years.

It’s the morning of New Year’s Eve and the first rays of the sunrise are starting to peek through his curtains. Zelda is still peacefully asleep beside him and he takes care not to wake her as he raises himself up.

She’ll be heading back to the mortuary tonight to help in the final rituals before the epiphany and something inside him aches. The thought of waking tomorrow without her in his bed and knowing she’s likely being driven mad by that Satan forsaken family of hers, especially that perpetually meddlesome mortal brat... he can barely stand it.

But she’s still his for today and he’ll savor her in this blissful pocket of time as much as he can. He lets his eyes roam over her slender form, the bedsheets snug against her, and her golden red locks fanned out beautifully over the pillow. He’s reminded of their younger selves when he admired her in a morning afterglow just like this, a glimpse what they could have been from what they used to be, and it stirs something inside him. Something that wants to preserve this moment and all the moments before it and keep them vivid and safe as long as he can.

As light continues to poor into the room, he knows she’ll awaken soon and before long, she’ll be off and out of his reach once again. The longer he can delay it, the longer she’ll be beside him.

“Rest, my darling,” he whispers, gliding his knuckles softly down the bridge of her nose, letting the sleep spell flow from his hand. “No need for an early rise,” he kisses her forehead, “No need to attend to anyone but yourself,” and then her cheek.

She barely stirs, but he watches her face become even more serene and smiles as he brushes her hair from her face to give one final kiss to her lips. Unfortunately, the high priest can’t ignore his responsibilities on such an important holiday, so an early rise is mandatory for him. But as he departs- knowing she still lays sleeping in his bed, away from any brewing trouble with the Spellmans and protected under his watchful eye... that will be enough to soothe the morning grind.

*****

It took less than an hour for his suspicions to be confirmed, the Spellman girl carelessly barreling into him as she rounded a corner, clearly on some mission that wreaked of unrest.

“Sorry, Father Blackwood. Have you seen my Aunt Zelda?”

“She is sleeping in my chambers,” he says with offense. Of course the girl is looking for Zelda, of course she wants to ruin a perfectly pleasant morning with her mortal foolery. “I fear she is altogether worn out. You shouldn’t trouble her.”

“I think Aunt Zelda would want to hear what I have to say,” Sabrina says defiantly and starts forward.

_Not today, brat_ , he thinks ... _I will not have you ruin the start of the New Year. For me. For Zelda. For anyone._ Without even realizing it, he grasps the girl’s arm with far more force than necessary. She gasps just loud enough for him to worry, but when he looks down at her challenging expression - he sees all the time stolen from him, all the reasons Zelda has been and will continue to be distressed, and by extension - every reason to extinguish it.

The girl is a danger, he decides. Feasting on the sanity of others without remorse. He couldn’t let her near Zelda, and moreover he has to find a way to remove her from the academy. From his coven. Before she feeds on others and leaves them as shells of who they once were like she did to his Zelda.

_His Zelda._

Staring off into the distance, he feels a darkness take hold and grips her arm tighter, “You do insist on troubling people, don’t you, Sabrina?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoomp, there it is. Sorry I cut ~*the sex*~ short, but the Soft bits were the important bits and I hope this hit you right in your complicated-emotions-for-mutually-destructive-lovers-who-are-hopeless-idiots feels. And, as ever, thank you for reading! K, bye.
> 
> P.S. The end-of-chapter dialogue is taken directly from the second novel, with some reinterpretation because it is originally from Sabrina’s perspective. She says Father Blackwood’s eyes went dim and a curse overtook him, so I tried to portray that descent into darkness with his inner monologue, wherein feelings he could normally control were now aggressively brought to the surface. Thoughts/feelings that he always had, mind you, it’s just that “the curse” brought them out.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, about the porn... failed to mention it’ll be in the next chapter. Eheh. Sorry. But thanks for reading if you made it this far! :)


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